Named for the ultra-fine Tipo 00 flour that’s used for Neapolitan pizzas (apparently it’s the vintage
Ferrari of flour), Zero is the sort of spot where you’ll want to get a group together to pile up on thin,
blistered pies, cocktails by the bowl and sambuca-topped ice cream.

The elevated booths and long bar on the ground level are good for a quick beer and a few slices, but
you’ll want to head to the more intimate bar upstairs under the Renaissance-inspired mural. It’s here
where you’ll have the best vantage point to ponder the painterly expression of the story of pizza via
still lifes of tomatoes, cheese and Pinocchio (a pretty loose interpretation).

Opt for the communal table with ample room for some rounds of punch, pints of beer and each of about 10
pies—including the sopressata/Hog Island clam combo.

And, as if potent cocktails and endless pizzas weren’t enough, the good folks at Zero are serving up
Straus soft-serve, including the vanilla bean, olive oil and sea salt variety.